The Seat of the Magpie
by Kalle
Summary: Ok this is for all who are sick of Alanna Convent fics. You know the ones, everything is still perfect in Tortall, Thom has basically taken Alanna's place, and amazingly Jon is alive! This fic has none of that it is what I think would have happened.
1. Nightly Patrol

A/N Ok am I the only one who is really annoyed by all these Alanna goes to the convent stories, where everything is alright. Jon is alive (is me but wasn't it _Alanna_ who saved his life, if she was at the convent Jon would be dead), Roger isn't king, and somehow (don't ask me how she managed it) Alanna is the best swordsman of them all. It doesn't make sense. So this is what I think really would have happened if she had been sent to the convent. If something like this has already been done please tell me. I do not own any of the characters you know. I hope you enjoy it. I'm a pyro so I don't mind flames.

Chapter I: The Nightly Patrol

George stealthily glided in and out of the shadows; he heard the big castle clock boom out nine strokes. He swore under his breath, and hugged the wall, making his lithe twenty-two-year-old body melt into the stones. The soldiers were walking through the winding streets and back alleys of Corus. George stood there not daring to move, his drab grey clothes blended with the drab grey building. He held his breath, the line of mercenaries past by, then he silently let one of his hidden throwing knives fly. He didn't wait to see the man fall, he knew he would, he just ran silently a shadow slightly darker than the rest of the darkness. He heard the confusion behind him, and smiled, at one a night he might kill them all in a hundred years. He laughed silently. The soldiers were organizing a pursuit.

"You can't chase what you can't see," he thought as he climbed onto the rooftops and made his way back to the Dancing Dove. As he reached it he looked sadly at the darkened windows, he remembered a time when there had been carousing well past midnight there, but now, at a time when it should have been full it was empty. The sign swung crookedly in front, and the creaking of its rusty hinges could be heard. He shook his head and leapt onto its roof, his sensitive fingers felt for the chink in his shutters, he pulled them open, and slid silently into the room. He looked down at his bed, how he loved sleeping, it was his escape, his dreams were strange and wonderful.

"My sight is acting up again," he said quietly with a smile. He never revealed to anyone that he had a small gift, it was dangerous to admit to that in these times. He closed his eyes trying to shut out the memory.

Guards, their hands grasping arms and legs. His mother struggling against their grasp screaming, only he had known what her screams had meant and whom they were for. They were telling him not to save her, not to try, to stay hidden and watch men taking his mother to who knows where. He had wanted to attack to rip them all to pieces but he knew that his mother's repeated cry of "NO!" was not directed to the guards, and he had remained where he was, as silent tears rolled down his face. From that day on, he was very careful with his gift, not letting anyone know about it. He saw countless others being dragged away. He had once saved a little girl from the soldiers. There had been less for her, and so there was less risk. He had named her Elafos, and raised her.

He walked out into the hall and knocked quietly on Ela's door.

"Yes," she whispered. George opened the door Ela ran to him and hugged him tightly. George stroked her hair softly. He knelt so he was at the same height as the five-year-old. 

"I promised you I wouldn't get caught, my little lass," he said. She nodded her head. "You know I would never break a promise to you." He brushed a tear from Ela's cheek and smiled at her. She kissed him on the forehead, and walked back over to her cot. George opened the door, and silently left her room. Then out in the hall, George, the King of Thieves, and the fearless leader of an underground resistance, wept. Out there in the hall he collapsed to the floor and cried. He stood slowly brushing away tears, and walked back to his room to sleep.

*~*~*

He was in the shadow of a tree near the Temple District. He looked at the flaming red head who he knew so well, and yet had never met. He loved her so much. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a package. It didn't surprise him that he would be giving a gift to the crown prince. He handed it to Alanna.

"This is from me to Jon. Be sure you give it to him in private. You don't want folk askin' questions about the giver." Alanna looked up at George; her violet eyes met his accusingly.

"George did you –" He laughed.

"Oh, you mistrustin' child! No, I did _not_ steal it. I had it made special for Jon. It's quite pretty, even if I did have to pay for it myself." Alanna laughed, George looked down at his dear friend. He looked around him. He only wanted one witness of this. He gently tilted her face up towards his. "Alanna," he whispered breathlessly, "I'm takin' advantage of you now, because I may never catch you with your hands full again." He leaned down and kissed her. He felt her trembling under his hands, and he drew back, holding in tears. 

"There," he said, "Think over what I said about love." He saw her in the darkness; she was glaring at him angrily. He smiled, that was his Alanna.

"Pigs might fly," she snapped.

*~*~*

Roger raged in the palace, shouting at the world, every night the guards returned with one fewer in their numbers. The captain of the guards cowered before the furious man; he watched the crackling orange gift shimmer over him. He was frightened by this powerful sorcerer, and king.

"My liege, it is not my fault," he begged. Roger whirled around and glared at the stocky man before him.

"No," he said with a slippery smile. "But wait, you trained your men, and it was their short-comings, and weaknesses, that you created in them that makes them return each night with less and less men." Roger's voice was dangerously calm. His face was calm as he took the captain of the guards by the throat and squeezed, slowly. The poor man's eyes bulged with fear. He knew that this was his last minute.

"Darling," a light and beautiful voice floated from the doorway. Roger's grasp loosened. "I have been waiting." A lovely woman entered, blonde hair loose and flowing down to her calves. Roger turned back to the captain of the guards.

"Take this as a warning. If any more men are lost during the nightly patrol your life will be the price. Now GO!" The captain struggled to his feet, thanking him and ran out of the room. Long pale arms wrapped themselves around Roger's neck. He reached up and stroked the soft skin of his mistress.

"Roger," she pouted, "I had to come. I was waiting for ages in that room, and you didn't come." Roger smiled at his love. She was the one person he trusted completely

"Esanta," he whispered kissing her on her nose, then his mouth traveled down to her lips, where it stayed. She was so incredibly beautiful. She pulled away and looked at him coyly. He took her by the hands and led her back into their room.


	2. Morning Judgements

Well I hate disclaimers (I mean this is fan fiction so it is accepted that I will be using characters and places that have already been written by someone else, and that I'm not making any money on it) but here is one anyway. None of the characters you know are mine, I am not making any money (it just boosts my ego) so it is perfectly legal. 

A/N I'm so happy that so many people read and liked it. I will thank you each individually at the bottom of the page.

Chapter II: Morning Judgements

George woke up suddenly. Early morning light was slanting through the shutters. He shook his head, and sighed. He wished his dream world was true, it was a world of noise and bustle, while this was a world of fear and silence.

"Alanna," he whispered. "Do you exist? Is it possible to love a dream." The dreams had started when he was seventeen, in them he had first glimpsed the young boy who would turn out to be a girl. A girl so amazing that he love her, even if she wasn't substantial. Since then he had always wondered which life was real, and since then there had been no woman in his life, his only love was in a dream. He stretched, there were muted noises coming from the commons of the tavern. George dressed quickly and headed down the stairs. Ela was already down there seriously discussing something with one of his thieves. George grinned.

"Hello my lovely little lass," he said swinging her up in his hands and kissing her softly on her forehead. She giggled, and kissed the tip of George's nose. He laughed and put her down. The thieves around them shook their heads, you would never believe that this man has a collection of ears, was their thought. George looked at the gathering, noted some peculiar faces. He put his hand on Ela's hair; she looked up at him.

"Go help Solom," he said encouragingly. She smiled and skipped off to behind the bar where Old Solom leaned down and offered a sweet. She often helped Solom pour drinks for the customers, and in return Solom was like a grandfather to her. He loved the pretty little girl, everyone did.

George turned towards the men he had noted earlier. There were three of them. "What do you wish of me, gentlemen?" he asked them warily. The leader, a tall giant of a man was the one who replied.

"We wish to meet with you alone." George gestured towards a back room.

"You don't mind if I choose to bring one of my men," George said sizing them up. He smiled easily arms open. "As a matter of trust." The leader laughed.

"Yes, if you feel it necessary," he said. George beckoned Merek to follow and the five of them disappeared into the room.

*~*~*

Esanta looked down at the handsome man sleeping beside her. His black hair fell across his forehead. She softly brushed it aside, looking down into the peaceful face. It was so quiet and gentle in sleep. It wasn't always like that, but for a moment one might almost mistake him for the dead crown prince Jonathan. She hadn't known Prince Jonathan. He had died before she had come to the court, before even Roger had come. He had been out of the country, beyond suspicion. But she had seen a portrait of the Prince and was struck by the resemblance. Now looking down at her king she wondered what her life would have been like if the prince hadn't died.

She stood and slipped on a silk robe. A gentle breeze blew the curtains apart, she walked out onto the balcony, her blonde hair was tousled and messy, she stood there looking out at Corus. She had stood there for many hours in the few months she had been with the King, it was the only place she felt at peace. She cooed softly, and one of the pigeons in the garden flew up to her hand. She stroked it softly, then carefully slid a scrap of paper out of her pocket and quickly scrawled a few words with a grease pencil. 

__

R. will sent. all that speak against him. Presses included. Proc. in 2 days.

She gently wrapped the paper around the pigeon's leg, and let it go. It flew high up into the morning sky. She sighed, and leaned on the balustrade. She heard movement inside and turned towards her lover.

"Roger? Are you awake?" she called softly. "Come watch the sunrise." The tall dark haired form of the king appeared at the doorway. She smiled, and beckoned to him. He approached her and embraced her in his strong arms.

"You know what I dreamed last night," he said breathing in the light scent of her hair. "I dreamt that you had a son, and that he was as tall and powerful as his father, and as beautiful as his mother." Esanta looked up at him.

"He was as tall as you when he was born?" she asked with a giggle. Roger shook his head.

"No my silly love, he grew as tall as me."

"Well," she said, "that would be a fine thing. Did he grow into a great ruler like you?"

"Of course, and all of the countries in the world bowed down to him." Esanta looked up at him.

"Now, you are imagining things." A knock came at the door. Roger growled and let go of Esanta, striding over to the door. A breathless messenger stood there warily. 

"What is it," Roger said impatiently.

"You are needed in the courts right away," the messenger replied. Roger cursed loudly and the messenger fled, running as fast as he could. Esanta walked over to Roger and folded him in her arms. 

"Don't worry, I'll go too," she whispered.

*~*~*

The courts were silent and empty except for some of Roger's most trusted bureaucrats. Up in front of the judge's seat stood a short boy of about fifteen. There was nothing particularly remarkable about him excepting his flaming red hair. He turned toward Esanta defiantly and she started, he had violet eyes. Since Roger had come into power he was the judge, and the executioner. None was to question his decision and none but the highest officials were allowed to watch. Esanta was an exception, whatever she asked for was granted, so when she asked to go to the courts she went.

"State your name for the record," Roger said imperiously to the boy.

"What record?" the boy replied sharply. Roger's orange gift lashed out burning a scar on the boy's neck.

"Don't talk to your king like that, I repeat one last time what is your name," Roger was shouting. Esanta looked at the boy thoughtfully.

"Thom of Trebond," the boy said.

"Thom of Trebond, you are brought before me with the charge of containing an unregistered Gift. That do you plead to this charge?"

"Not guilty, your majesty," he spat out. "Test me yourself, I do not have the gift."

"Don't be insolent, you know I could kill you now if I wished," Roger roared. "I hold your fate in my hands. I am your King." Thom looked at Roger, his violet eye snapped with anger.

"I realize that, your majesty," he said. Roger cut him off.

"I find you guilty, either you register your gift, and allow me to conduct some tests and experiments on it, or you can choose to die here and now. It is your choice, but an unregistered gift is a danger to everyone."

"I doubt yours registered," Thom said under his breath.

"What was that?" Roger said, with a charming smile. Thom met his eyes.

"I said, I don't have the gift." 

****

Author's Thanks:

Googlepuss: I completely agree with you. In the other Alanna goes to the convent stories Thom basically takes Alanna's place in the palace and is Jon's squire, that would never happen. My Thom has no friends, and doesn't even have a knight master. He doesn't care either; he likes being alone. The title was a spur of the moment thing, my roommate was philosophizing about how Magpies are the bird of thieves, and so I was like I need a title I need a title and it sounded good. 

Lady Hawk: There are some good Alanna goes to the convent stories but with most of them, you read one you've read them all. (Quick note to all Fanfic writers if you have the word "another" in your summery think up a new plot). The kiss was in George's dream. His dreams are what might have been.

Temptress, Aranel & ME: Thanks for the reviews.

Jilla kala: It is sad that things are so bad without Alanna, but things will get better. I have faith (where there is George there is always hope(hehe)).

The Pen Mage: I love George too, and ya I did meant to put in the it, sorry. Thanks for the review.

Kel4ever: Thanks for the review, yes George dreamed the bit about Alanna.

Devilkitti, Gemma & Nightshine: Thanks for the reviews.

Glaive Girl: George is my favorite character (I love him), things will get better though. I always believe things will get better.

Tallulah (My first reviewer): Of course George rocks! Thanks for the review.


	3. Close to the King

A/N I hope you like this chapter. Who are those three men? What will happen to Thom? And what the heck is happening to Alanna? Read and find out.

Chapter III: Close to the King

George gestured to the seats across the table as he sat down. The three strange men sat, Merek stood watching them warily. They had hoods shading their faces. His eyes moved down their bodies, taking in everything.

"So what are three nobles like you doing in the lower city," George said appraisingly. The men laughed and pulled back their hoods. George looked at them a second, shocked, then returned to his nonchalant air. Raoul of Goldenlake, Alexander of Tirragen, and in their shadows was Gareth of Naxen, son of the late Duke Gareth of Naxen, sat across from him. George had been keeping quite close tabs on these three since his dreams had started. Raoul was the one to speak first.

"You are head of an underground resistance" George broke in.

"So are you I believe, Raoul of Goldenlake. But we have different goals, yours is to place the honorable Gareth of Naxen," George said gesturing towards the man on Raoul's right, "on the throne, mine is to clear out all the nobles, and get someone who will be fair to my people."

"Which would be you I presume," Raoul replied arching his eyebrow. George shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

"Me or one of my people."

"But our initial goal is the same, to remove Roger from the throne." Raoul said earnestly to George.

"Once that is completed we can muddle through the politics," Gareth said. George looked over at the baffled Merek.

"Agreements like this are things that invite civil war. I can't accept it." Raoul sighed looking at George's impassive face.

"What if we rearranged the nobles, and created a consul of every station surrounding the king, but we must have Gary as our king. He is a good man, and has strains of the royal blood." 

"But that is the point," George said, "We cannot have a monarchy based on blood in this world." 

"Roger must be brought down, that is vital."

"But how are we to know that we are just putting another Roger on the throne," George countered. Raoul stood pounding his fist against the table.

"Gary would not be another Roger, he is a good man," he shouted, his voice vibrated through the room.

"Ah, you know that, but how do I know that," George said calmly. "You see how hard these arrangements are." 

"Sit down Raoul," Gary turned toward George. "I appreciate your dilemma. But sometimes you have to trust people. We are trusting you, the King of the Rogue. What reasons do we have, from all accounts you are a thief and a scoundrel? Yet we also know that you have no love for the King and so we stand before you, trusting ourselves to your whim," George looked at Gary, then reached out a hand.

"Gareth of Naxen, I know you are a good man, don't ask me how but I know that in another life we would be good friends. So I will carry that life into this." Gary took George firmly by the hand and shook it. The meeting took on more of an air of allies than enemies, more relaxed and friendly.

"My people have been cutting down the nightly patrols. We know at what time each of the patrols march and at what time," George grinned, "We have friends in the armies. We also have and underground for those in the lower city with the Gift. We have spies posted all over. Merek!" Merek started. George turned towards him. "How many people do we have in the servants of the palace?"

"Twenty three," was the quick response. George nodded.

"The closest one to Roger, I'm afraid," George said apologetically, "is, a friend of Roger's laundry mistress' sister. We haven't had much luck in getting close to him I'm afraid." Alex smiled, his dark mouth curved up into a grin.

"We have," he said.

*~*~*

Esanta summed Thom up, it had to be a quick choice. She decided. Her body toppled down in a faint. Roger looked over at his mistress, and horror passed across his handsome features. He ran down from the bench, down to Esanta's side. He pulled a vial of Wakeflower from his pocket. Esanta winced, inhaling the noisome scent, it was bad enough when one had actually fainted, but when one was pretending it was enough to make your head explode, she coughed.

"Esanta," Roger's voice was painfully loud, he laid a cold hand on her cheek. She felt like recoiling from his touch, but instead she caressed his hand with hers.

"Roger," she said, tears forming in her eyes. "Darling, I couldn't bear the thought of you putting that poor young boy to death." She closed her large blue eyes as she whispered the word death. 

"Esanta, don't worry. I won't kill him," Roger's worried face hovered above hers. She opened her eyes.

"You will let him go?" she asked. "He is so young, Roger. He can't do anything harmful." For a slight moment Roger's eyes were full of suspicion, but as a tear rolled down her cheek, it was replaced by tenderness.

"Of course, Esanta. Don't worry your pretty eyes over it. He will be free to go." Roger turned towards Thom, who was drinking the whole scene in eagerly. "Boy, you are free to go, but if there are anymore indications of a Gift in you, you will be severely punished."

Thom left, almost in a daze. 

"I think I am the only one who has every been acquitted under this system," he thought. He wended his way through the empty hallways to his room. It was in the page's quarters, still. He had never been considered fit to be a squire, and even when he had, barely, passed the examinations none of the knights wanted him. He didn't care. He didn't care about anyone, well maybe two people, himself and his sister, Alanna. He picked up her latest letter. It was written in an impatient hand, and told of the horrors of the convent. He sighed, and threw it in the fire.

*~*~*

"Gary," Esanta said quickly. "I think I have a new person for the resistance." Gary started.

"How do you do that, Essy?" he said looking down at the letter he had been writing. It now had a think black line across the page.

"I know all of the secret passages," she said calmly. "But Gary, this is important, so important that I got someone acquitted. I can't do that a lot or Roger will suspect. It is that important." Gary sighed.

"Who is it?"

"Thom of Trebond," she stated.

"Thom?!" Gary said. "That self centered idiot. Whatever made you think he would join. All he cares about is himself."

"He stood up to Roger, Gary," Esanta replied coolly.

"Yes, that was because it was the way that served him best. He is selfish, and power hungry. There is no way that he would join. There is a reason he doesn't have a knight master. He was bad at _everything_, and I don't just mean the military part of it either. He failed every class he was in. He doesn't have any friends, all he does is spend all day in the library reading, I don't know what because he never had his homework done." Gary shook his head. "Thom is a loner, and not the loyal type." Esanta shrugged.

"I read him differently," Gary began to sputter, but she cut him off, "Oh I don't mean I saw him as a loyal or pleasant type, but he has no love for Roger either. Gary I think he has the Gift. I can't be sure, but either he had one more powerful than Roger, or he doesn't have one at all. Still can you imagine, having a powerful mage on our side?"

"He's only fifteen."

"I know, but consider it, Gary," she said and slipped back into the secret passage.

A/T

Temptress: I hope you liked what happened

White-Wolf: Don't worry Thom will be in it a lot.

Google Puss: I'm glad you like the way I'm writing from the different points of view.

Babooshka: I'm glad you like it. That makes me very happy.

Kel4ever: Thanks for the review.

Magix Pawn: Hehe, I don't think I'll have Alanna raise Jon from the dead, interesting question, Would someone who had already died still be the heir?

Pen Mage: Yep dear ole Roger is king.

ME: I'm glad you like the story. It makes me so happy when people like my stories. And yes GEORGE RULES!

Blue Eyes: Thanks for the review.


	4. Thieves, Ladies, Knights and Squires

A/N: Sorry about the long wait. Devilkitti8 this chapter is for you.

Chapter IV: Thieves, Ladies, Knights, and Squires

George wandered through the Corus market place. Ela sat on his shoulders her small fingers entwined themselves in his brown hair. He glanced up at her and grinned. Her snub nose was sprinkled with ginger freckles and her thin brown hair brushed her shoulders. Her head was tilted back to catch every ray of sunlight. The market was drab and grey, as if the entire place was in mourning. The high taxes on imported dyes meant that only the incredibly wealthy, a class that was shrinking rapidly, could afford colors. Ela giggled and pointed at the one stall with bright ribbons floating from it. George walked over towards it. Its bright colors were a banner flowing out towards him. Ela deserved color in her life. 

The trader smiled at George from the stall. George fingered the ribbons gently; Ela laughed and pointed at sky blue ribbon floating out with the rest on the breeze. George took it down and looked at it, fingering the fine silk then replaced it without a word.

"It would be a fine color for the little miss," the trader said with an oily insincere smile. George nodded then walked away from the stall with out saying a word. When they were safe in the throng he looked up at Ela and grinned.

"You lifted it right gently my little lass." She smiled and unwrapped the long azure ribbon from her wrist. "You will be an expert pick pocket, you have the lightest fingers I have ever seen." She smiled again hugged the top of his head. George had stopped worrying about her silence, she only spoke to people she knew very well and even then very rarely. They continued through the crowds, relieving the wealthy of the weight of their purses. The take each day was getting smaller and smaller. When they returned to the inn and counted the day's earnings, George looked at Ela.

"If life continues as is I'll have to start working for a livin', lass," he smiled. "It seems the trade I'm teaching you isn't going to get you far in these days." Ela looked up at him and removed from her pocket a thin wallet offering it up to he foster father. He smiled weakly at her at took it from her small hands. She jumped down from the table and tied the sky blue ribbon into her limp hair, and grinned, her face lit up the room, and she was beautiful. George couldn't help but grin back. She began to twirl and dance around the room, he laughed and swung her up in his arms and kissed her.

There was a beating of wings at the shutters of his room. George gently put Ela down and walked over to the window and threw it open. A pigeon flew in. It was from Esanta. Raoul decided that it was safer to send the pigeons to George, so these last couple weeks George had to learn to hear the difference between Esanta's palace birds and Stefan's stable pigeons. Wrapped carefully around the bird's leg was a slip of paper. The message was short but urgent.

__

R. has the warrant for your arrest.

*~*~*

Alanna concentrated on the orb in her hands it glowed with a steady violet light.

"By storing a spell in crystal it will be intensified so it can last longer and will be more accessible than one that you have to call up on the spur of the moment. It is less draining, making it possible for you to cast more spells while still having light to see by," the instructing sister continued. "Remember ladies in order for you to run a household efficiently careful study of your gift is necessary." Alanna looked at the sister trying to understand how something so potentially interesting could be so boring, she sighed. "Lady Alanna of Trebond do you have anything to share?" the sister asked sharply.

"No your Reverence," Alanna replied her intonation perfect from years of practice. Alanna didn't hate the convent the way she did when she first came but she couldn't say that it was her favorite place in the world either. In the first couple years she had hated all classes especially the magic training, but as the years wore on she lost her fear of her gift. She now was in advanced study, which, if the instructor had be any good at all, would be extremely interesting, but the sister just droned on. In Advanced Magical Studies the girls were learning how to run a household aided by magic, and how to defend a manor or palace while under attack. The first thing that they had been taught by the sisters was that they shouldn't depend on men to save their homes and their children.

"Men will not always be home or even care, you have to always look like you depend on them, but you must never actually depend on them. You have to learn how to look weak while actually being strong, you must remember that if you really were how you are supposed to act no one would marry you." So they were taught to look horrified to cry prettily, to faint, to act silly, to flirt, and to be the true and strong head of the household. Alanna felt it was all ridiculous, if you are strong act strong, was her mind, but she realized that acting silly had its advantages as well. She would be an ideal spy, if she wished no man would ever think that she had any brain.

Alanna at first had no respect for the sisters, she thought of them as spineless women creating spineless women, but the more she stayed with them the more she watched them the more she understood them, and that created a grudging respect for the sisters. Then Roger had ascended the throne and it was decreed that all gifts must be registered or the possessor would be incarcerated. The sisters carefully shielded their gifts from him, Roger would never have thought of women being trained in magic. They took in refugees, and helped teach the student mages that needed training. They continued training their gifted ladies, and embedded in them a powerful hatred for the King. Roger hadn't realized his mistake.

*~*~*

Thom walked down the long hallway. He was puzzled, why would the most disappointing squire in the entire realm be offered a place by Gareth the Younger. He approached the door, and reached out for the knob, then hesitated. His instinct for self-preservation told him that Gareth would never offer to be his knight master without some other motive. He stood there, wondering, thinking, puzzling. Then he shook his head, there was only one way to find out why this was happening. He opened the door. Gareth was sitting at his desk and looked up at the short figure of Thom of Trebond.

"Shut the door," he said curtly. Thom complied, then turned back towards the knight, shoulders back, eyes proud, he dared Gareth to under estimate him. "Do you have the Gift?" Thom started; this was not what he expected.

"No," he said guardedly. Gareth's eyes narrowed appraisingly.

"I will put my cards on the table first then, if you won't deal openly. I am a part of an underground movement against the crown." Thom's violet eyes grew wide. "Yes," Gary said taking the look, "it is treason, you could go to the King with this information and I wouldn't see the light of day for a long time, but I know you won't."

"How can you trust me?" Thom replied, with an almost defiant look in his eyes. "We were never friendly, you don't know me."

"I know that you have no love for Roger," Gary's eyes met Thom's seriously. "So will you tell me now? Do you have the Gift?"

A/T

MagixPawn and Jilla Kala: Thanks for the reviews.

Kaori Knight: Alanna's in this chapter. I have counted at least 30 Alanna goes to the convent fics. That's why I'm writing mine, as a reaction to all of them. Thanks for reviewing.

Athena and Tallina Starfire: You guys have cool names. Thanks for the reviews.

White-wolf: Alanna is in it. She will have a big part, just not the main part. Thanks.

Temptress: I like Thom too, but in a weird way. It is hard to explain. I like him but he can be an idiot and an unsensitive (I'm stopping here, but thanks for the review).

Queen of the Rogue and Babooshka: Thanks for the reviews.

Glaive Girl: Well this isn't soon but Alanna's in it.

Fntsyangel: The Dancing Dove is doing badly because 1. People don't have any money 2. There are curfews in place so people don't stay out late 3. I don't think Roger really likes the lower classes to enjoy themselves.

Devilkitti8: You get about 50% of the credit for this chapter getting written. I couldn't leave you hanging after you put so much effort into checking up on this story and not finding a change. So here is your chapter.

Slytherin Sweetheart: Thanks for the review.

Googlepuss: I'm glad Essy's true character was a surprise. Thanks for the review.


	5. Leaving

A/N Ok I have to admit something. I am Aer. Kalle really was my roomie (and she is really cool and the other stories under her name really are by her). This one I wrote under her name because one: I had this great idea but I didn't want people to tell me that they didn't want to read it if it were taking time away from writing Amber Fire, two: I was hoping that more people would read Kalle's stories because she had some good ones that not many people read. So the truth is that the author of this story is Aer. I hope that this didn't cause any problems. I may repost it under Aer, but it will probably stay under Kalle.

Sorry about the really really really long wait.

Chapter V: Leaving

George stared at the note for a moment then snapped into motion. He would have to leave that night. Official warrants were not really bothered with these days. You were usually taken in secret and executed in the privacy of King Roger's court. An official warrant meant an official execution; also Roger wouldn't risk having this go wrong. He wanted to show off his power. The King of the Rogue would be a fine catch. Ela looked up at her father with her serious eyes, then slowly untied the ribbon and stuck it in her pocket. She was packed. George went to the top of the stairs and called Merek, this had to be handled quietly. As Merek entered the room George shut the door behind him. It was soundproof, and the King of Thieves was notoriously unkind to eavesdroppers.

"I have to leave, tonight. Tell Gary if he comes that I have gone to the Seat of the Magpie in the City of the Gods. Tell _ONLY_ Gary, if you value your position of favor in my courts, your life and my friendship." Merek nodded. "You will be in charge while I'm gone. Keep up appearances, and do not act like I have gone. I will send you a message when I get there. Until then, act moderately and as you see fit." He hugged his good friend then taking up his cloak, his pack, and Ela he slipped out the window into the shadows of the night.

*~*~*

Esanta looked down on her lover lying on other side of the bed. His bare chest rose and fell with each breath. She had drugged him. It had seemed so easy; they had had mulled wine that night. She had slipped the drug in his glass. It had acted more slowly than she would have liked, but it had worked.

Quickly she slipped on her robe, and ran for the secret passage. Her thin fingers fumbled on the catch. She glanced back at Roger. He was still asleep. She opened the passage and quietly closed it behind her. She ran down the narrow hallway inside the walls, stopping at spy holes along the way to see what the courtiers were up to. She reached Gary's door, and opened it. She hadn't seen Thom in the corner. He gasped as Roger's mistress entered the room in nothing more than a satin robe. She looked at him in surprise.

"So you have joined the resistance I see," she said calmly. "Speak of my presence to no one. Hear me no one." Thom nodded unable to speak. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. "Remember," she added, "I saved your life. Where's Gary?" Thom pointed to the door. Esanta entered Gary's bedchamber.

"Thom, bring me some more ink," Gary said without turning his head. Esanta smiled in spite of her agitation.

"I'm not Thom." Gary turned.

"Essy? What are you doing here?"

"Roger has issued a warrant for George," she said, her wide eyes desperate.

"What! Has he been warned?" Gary said rising.

"I sent him one of my birds. I hope he heeds it. We need him," she said quietly. "I must return to Roger, though."

"Be careful, Essy, Roger doesn't keep those he doesn't trust."

"He loves me, Gary," she said with a faint smile as she entered the secret passage from his room. The panel swung back in place.

"Can a man like that love? Oh, Essy, you deserve a better life," Gary said to the place where she had been standing. Esanta ran back down the passage. She came to her room again, and opened the door. The room was empty; then a hand crept to her throat, and threw her against the wall.

*~*~*

George and Ela made it to the City of the Gods without any mishaps. It had been a long cold journey though, and George was happy when they saw the well-worn sign of the Seat of the Magpie. The Seat of the Magpie had been the first head quarters of the Rogue, but as Corus got wealthier the Rogue moved. Now very few knew of the old Tavern. It was an ideal hiding place. Little Tinker, the proprietor of the place knew George at once, and escorted him to the master chamber. George's sharp eyes took in two alternative exits. The room was clean, and free from hiding places, but all the same he carefully looked around it before laying Ela on the bed. She was asleep in a minute. George looked down on the sleeping girl's face. He wished that he could sleep like that, without worries, the dreams kept coming. They were his escape, but now he feared that if he slept he would never wake. He stroked Ela's thin hair, then locked the door, and slipped out the window.

It felt good to be in a market again. George smiled and chose the first mark of the day. It was a pretty young girl who was looking at silks. The girl moved, George moved, the girl turned, George turned, the girl breathed, George breathed. He became one with his mark. Then swiftly and gently he lifted her purse and walked away. She was none the wiser until she decided to buy chocolates, and it was too late. George had moved onto the next mark, a tall man with grey hair, a priest. This mark was a little harder because he wore a heavy cloak, but soon he too was relieved of his money. George looked at his haul. The City of the Gods was richer than Corus at the moment. He saw a girl in a green cloak. He smiled; her purse was tantalizingly in view. He became one with her, moving with her movement, and gently leaned in to lift it. She whirled around, violet eyes flaming.

"My purse is not yours to take," she said sharply looking him in the eyes. George stepped back. It was Alanna. The girl in his dreams was flesh and blood. He stared. She glared. "Are you mute? Or can you not move? At least bow to a lady," she snapped. George kept his eyes on her. She was even more beautiful in person. He loved her.

"Alanna," he breathed. She started.

"What did you say?"

George cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Alanna."

"Do I know you?" she asked skeptically, looking at his clothes.

"We would have known each other if," he trailed off.

"If what?" she was getting annoyed with this thief.

"If you had gone to the palace to become a knight," he replied blushing. He knew he sounded crazy, she was a lady. Alanna started, but composed herself.

"You are mad." She turned and left him standing in the streets staring after her.

When Alanna returned to her rooms she paced back and forth. How had he known her? How had he known her childish wish to become a knight? She hadn't liked the look in his eyes. It wasn't lust, or a passing interest. She knew those well. It had been love, passion.

"The man was mad," she told herself. "That's all. Just mad, and a good guesser." She looked out the window. A lady shouldn't admit it, but she wondered what would have happened if she had tried to become a knight. Would she have known this man? She took up her pen and began to write Thom.

A/T

(Blank): I've updated (I know I take forever). Sorry.

Devilkitti8: Sorry about the long wait but at least I have updated.

Lith: I'm glad you like Ela, of cours Jon was a loser. Everyone knows that Heh.

Rhikat: I'm glad you think that this is better than the other Alanna goes the Convent stories. It was written in reaction to them. There are at least 40 of them. About Roger though, I think he kept in control of his temper in the SotL books because he had to. During his duel with Alanna he did lose control though, and so I figure that once he was king he wouldn't have to watch his step anymore. I also always thought of him as a Chauvinist personally just in the way he dealt with Delia, so I think he knows that women can be mages, but doesn't think of them as a threat. Plus the women at the palace have cultivated a muddle headed image. But you don't have to agree with me.

PixiePrincess: I'm glad you like it. They have met. I'm glad that you like that they have dreamt of each other.

Shang Eagle: I'm glad you like it.

White Raven and White-wolf: Here is more, thanks for the review.

Googlepuss: Well I hope that you waited this long. I'm glad you liked that chapter.

Mysticflame151: I have the ending sketched out in my mind. It will be bittersweet. I hope you won't be disappointed by it.

Daine: I don't know if no Jon would mean no Daine or Kel in the long run. But unfortunately they won't appear in this story. Daine is my favorite.

Mystikat: Hehe I love Cliffhangers. Thanks for reviewing.


	6. Tears

A/N Reading pp 67-72 in _In the Hand of the Goddess_ after reading this might be helpful. Please read, review and I hope Enjoy.

Chapter VI: Tears

The monk's robe itched horribly. George wondered why anyone would ever wish to become one, the hood shaded his face though and that was the vital point. It was imperative that he wasn't seen. He was in a dark room surrounded by old leather bound books. He read the bindings. They were mostly histories of Tortall. The door behind him opened. There was something hopeful in the footsteps.

"Excuse me," the voice was disappointed. George smiled, and turned towards the redhead, removing the cowl. His grin widened at the surprise in the violet eyes. Alanna slammed the door, and locked it.

"Are you out of your mind?" she whispered, the expression on her face revealed that she wanted to yell. "Some of my Lord Provost's men _do_ know what you look like!"

"Upset for my safety? I'm touched," George chuckled. Alanna glared at him.

"You're touched in the head," she snapped. "Anyway, since you're here, why are you here?" George looked at her; something was worrying her.

"I thought you mightn't get the chance to come down to the city before you rode out, and I wanted a word with you," he said with concern. "But _you_ were wanting to ask _me_ somethin'" Alanna made a face, and produced a burr. She told him how it was found on Duke Gareth's saddle blanket. The more he listened the less he liked the idea of Alanna going off to war. Especially when she was going to be put under the command of Duke Roger. He wished that he could go with her and keep an eye on things, but he knew that his people would look on that as a betrayal. He reached out and smoothed her hair with his hand. "She's about as vulnerable as that cat of hers," he reminded himself. "She doesn't need me to watch _her_ back." Alanna smiled at him, he read in the smile that she wished that he could come too.

"I'll be alright," she said with a false heartiness that the thief could see right through. "Faithful will be with me, and if things get bad I'll go to Myles. He's smart enough for three of us." He was still anxious for her but he sensed that she did not want to hear about how much danger she was heading into. He changed the subject. It was a flippant change, but he was serious. He could tell that Alanna didn't like this conversation any better than the previous one.

"I've already found her, and you know it well." George watched Alanna, she was uncomfortable, but he didn't want her leaving not knowing this. She pulled herself together and glared at him.

"You think highly of yourself! I'm the daughter of a noble—" George laughed. He knew that that would never stand between Alanna and anything.

"Does that truly stand between us, Alanna? If you loved, would you care about birth or wealth?" Alanna protested. George looked at her. She was different from any other woman he had ever known. Her arguments were growing weaker. She was pleading with him to stop the conversation. He sighed. He wanted her to understand that he would wait.

"I—I won't let it ruin our friendship, George." Her voice was so low that he could hardly hear it. She was looking at her feet.

"And I won't speak of it again till you ask it." He had to look in her eyes. Then he would see her answer. "Look at me Alanna." She slowly raised her eyes, and met his. Looking into them he saw that he had hope. He didn't know what he was doing, but suddenly he found his mouth against hers. He hadn't meant it to goes this far, but she kissed him back. He held her closer and realized that he would never love another woman in his life.

*~*~*

George awoke. He shook his head and looked down at Ela sleeping deeply beside him. His dream Alanna was going off to war. The living breathing one was at the convent. He wondered if she had ever dreamed of him.

"She didn't recognize you in the slightest," he told himself. "Don't be stupid." She was now truly a noble's daughter, but then he wondered. He had seen fire in those eyes. She was not the same girl, and yet she was. He had to see her again, but how. Men were not allowed in the convent. He looked down at Ela again and smiled. She would be his ticket in.

*~*~*

Alanna groomed the grey palfrey again. His name was Purity, but Alanna called him Donkey. The sisters didn't like the nickname.

"Easy, boy." She untangled his mane and tail carefully. His coat shone in the sun of the courtyard. Alanna looked at the gateway, her escape, and her prision. A tall woman was striding through it leading a bay mare. The woman moved with grace and ease. Alanna was impressed. The woman saw her, and walked up to Alanna.

Alanna looked up at the tall woman with grey hair. The woman was old, but athletic, and dressed in breeches. Alanna looked down at her skirts cursing them. The woman looked at Alanna appraisingly.

"Would you take a message to my sister," she said. Her voice was gravelly, but sweet.

"Who might your sister be, your dignity?" Alanna asked, using the general term for addressing visitors to the school. The woman made a face at the title.

"My sister is Lokisk." Alanna stared, then looked at the woman again.

"M—mother Lokisk?" Alanna stuttered. "The high priestess?"

"Oh, she was promoted again. Good. Well yes she is the one." The woman grinned, showing white teeth. "Tell her that her wayward sister has returned." Alanna started to curtsy. "Don't bother to with me, and non of this 'your dignity' either." Alanna grinned.

"Yes your dignity," she replied impudently. Then ran off to find the High Priestess. The woman smiled and shook her head. 

*~*~*

Esanta gasped for breath, half of her body ached. She struggled to her feet, but she was thrown back against the wall. Roger's irate face filled her eyes. She was terrified, but her mind was quick. She knew that her life depended on what she did now.

"What's wrong?" she cried, tears streamed from her blue eyes.

"Snake," he hissed at her, slapping her face. She fell to her knees. Her tears were real now. She touched the spot where his hand had met her cheek.

"What did I do?" she sobbed. He pulled her up from her knees.

"Whore, harlot, slut," he hit her with each word. "You have been seeing other men. When I'm asleep you sneak through the secret passages. Do they pay you? Am I not enough for you?" He slapped her again. She threw up her hands to block her face.

"Roger, you are the only one," she sobbed. He pulled her hands down, and pinned them against the walls.

"Then where do you go? What do you do in the walls like a rat?" She turned her face away from his.

"I'm spying for you," she said. "Roger, I would never be false to you. I love you. You and only you." The words felt bitter on her lips, but she said them. "Please believe me." Roger let go of her and became dangerously calm.

"Of course," he said. He fiddled with his sapphire ring. It sparkled brightly, distracting the eye. "You are spying for me." Esanta's eyes were drawn to it. She was sleepy.

"Yes," she said trying desperately to keep her mind to herself. "The ring," she thought "Don't look at it." She tried to look beyond it. It sparkled there. She tore her mind from its grasp, and brought something into her mind's eye, anything. It was Gary. His handsome face filled her eyes. Her head cleared.

"Have you ever slept with another man?"

"No," she replied keeping Gary in front of her.

"What do you do in the walls?"

"Spy to see any that are plotting against you."

"Who have you seen?"

"Richard of Scales, Henry of Willowwood," she said naming two men who were completely loyal to Roger.

"Are you sure you have nothing else to tell me?"

"Yes, I am sure."

A/T

Lith: The Seat of the Magpie does take up some time that might be devoted to Amber Fire, and because I'm very Cliffhanger prone some people don't like it when someone is working on two stories at the same time. I'm glad you like this story. I like my stories equally, and it is nice to get a break from one and work on the other.

Xelena: I'm glad you like it.

Keita: I'm glad that you are reviewing. This is much quicker updating than last time. I'm glad you like the way I write Thom.

Exroooooommmmieeee!!!: I hope your Thanksgiving break went well and that Katherine wasn't so grounded that you couldn't see her at all. It would have been kinda funny if you had reviewed when everyone thought that you were writing it. Miss you.

Mage Melery: I'm glad that this is an atypical Alanna-goes-to-convent story. That is probably the best complement for this story (if I ever start to slip into the cliché everyone must slap me).

Googlepuss: I read and reviewed Other Side of the Mirror. I will read Thom goes to the Convent. I have always wanted to write something where a guy had to hide his sex. Heh.


	7. Strange Meetings

A/N Sorry about the wait. But this chappie is extra long, and a lot happens in it. For those who want me to update Amber Fire I'm afraid that you will have to wait a couple more days until I'm on vacation, because the teachers are loading on the work. Please read and review, and I hope enjoy.

Chapter VII: Strange Meetings

Alanna was restless. She stood up, and looked out of the window. The moonlight was bright; the convent gardens were calling her. She opened the windows wide to get air. The pull was stronger than ever. She climbed out the window, hanging full length from the sill, her feet scrabbling for the window lintel below. It was dangerous work, and she had only done it once before, but she was strong and steady, for the first time in her life she mentally thanked her dancing master. She made it down to the ground without any mishaps. Her bare feet felt cold in the almost spring air, she curled her toes under wishing that she had thought to bring shoes. She began to wander; the gardens were big, and wild in a cultivated sense. The moonlight bathed everything in a strange silvery light. She sat on one of the simple benches that the priestesses had made for meditation in the gardens, and shivered. She was beginning to wonder what had possessed her to take this moonlit stroll. Slowly she became aware of a soft shaky meow, and a little black and white kitten, the coloring that was often referred to as magpie, stumbled out of one of the shrubs. Alanna looked at it; it wasn't familiar to her. She knew all the convent cats. She lifted it gently, its weight was so slight, and Alanna saw that it was nothing but skin, and bones. She smiled down at it in her arms. It wasn't the least bit afraid, and was now producing a loud purr. She stroked it carefully. Its coat was matted with dry mud. She sat back down with it on the bench, and began to untangle its fur gently. It was asleep in a moment.

"It might be nice to have a pet to talk to," she thought with a tired smile. She raised her eyes from the kitten and scanned the garden again.

She saw someone. Every muscle in her body was on edge. If she were seen then the sisters would punish her harshly. The tall form was at the edge of the garden, and it was approaching Alanna's huddled form. Alanna began to sneeze, and the kitten woke up and indignantly looked into Alanna's eyes. She stared. The cat's eyes were as purple as her own.

"Great mother goddess," she whispered. She tore her eyes away from the cat's only to see the tall form approaching even faster. "Why did I come out tonight?" she asked herself, she could only sit there, though, her night gown glowing a dazzling white under the moon, while the hooded stranger came up to her and stood in front of her.

Alanna stood, knowing inside her that this was someone who deserved respect. The stranger pulled back her hood, and Alanna found herself looking into the green eyes of the most beautiful perfection she had ever seen in her entire life.

"My Daughter," the woman said her voice husky and sweet.

*~*~*

"Jadi it has been a long time hasn't it?" Mother Lokisk said with a smile. Her sister grinned back.

"Twelve years I believe," she said, pouring herself a glass of wine, and sitting opposite her sister. They were almost perfect mirrors of each other, but their faces and bodies also spoke of different experiences. Jadi's face was a tanned dark, lined with wrinkles from the sun. Her long steely grey hair fell down her back wildly, and the hand that held the glass was callused and powerful. Lokisk though was pale, and her wrinkles came from scholarly thought, and meditation. Her hair was clipped close to her scalp, and she squinted it the pale light because she was used to looking at the world through a veil. As High Priestess to the Great Mother Goddess she did not have much leisure time, and this showed in her trembling white fingers, and dark circles beneath her eyes. They were twins, but Lokisk looked years older, and even she had to admit it.

"So did you return just to reminisce, or are there darker forces at work?" Lokisk looked at her sister appraisingly. Jadi stood, and faced the fire. Lokisk could still see her face reflected in the copper grate. It distorted it disturbingly.

"Roger is rounding up the Shang," Jadi said quietly. "Those that don't join with him are killed." The Shang Gorgon rounded on her sister. "At least half have been taken, and killed. No Shang would join him, so they are tortured and killed. Our Dragon is organizing the remaining Shang into an army. We need sanctuary, though. Sister, I have come to beg you to take us in." The high priestess of the Great Mother Goddess met her twin's eyes.

"I have one condition." Jadi raised an eyebrow at this, but remained silent. "Train my girls in self-defense." For the first time in a month Jadi laughed. It was a deep bark of laughter.

"Train your court beauties in self-defense?! Those girls don't have enough sense between them to run away. What makes you think that they are capable of fighting? What would all their dear parents say?" It was Lokisk's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"You have never thought that my work was worth while. Have you sister?"

"Your work as high priestess is worth while enough, but you have been wasting your time and your talent on those brainless court flirts."

"My girls are trained in five languages, and in hiding the fact. They can read and write, and have been taught all of the modern sciences as well as the history of the realm. Also they are extremely proficient at mathematics, and all the gifted ones have been taught many spells which mean that they can magically defend themselves. But they need a way to physically defend themselves."

"This is foolishness, they wouldn't survive a day."

"I'm not asking you to turn them into Shang warriors. They just need to know enough so that if they are attacked they won't be helpless." Lokisk's voice was unyielding. Jadi shook her head.

"If I teach your beauties some basic punches and kicks, the Shang can use the convent as a base?"

"Of course," Lokisk replied with a little smile curling the corners of her lips. Jadi looked at her sister then held out her hand. Lokisk shook it firmly, realizing how much both of them had changed since their last meeting.

*~*~*

Gary left the throne room. Once a week King Roger called all the remaining courtiers to the great hall to swear their devotion to him. Gary always felt uncomfortable about it because knights were brought up to be honest, but he knew that Roger knew he wasn't loyal. The only reason, that Gary could see, that he was still alive is that Roger wanted to watch and see what he would do. This week though Gary was worried, Esanta wasn't beside Roger as she always was. He slipped into one of the secret passageways, and ran down to her apartments.

He reached the spy hole and looked in, Esanta was lying face down on her bed. Gary looked at her for a minute then whispered,

"Essy?" She sat up startled, her back was facing him, with blonde hair rippling over the silk robe.

"Gary?" she said tentatively, then hurriedly, "Go away. Gary please go away." She choked back a sod, and Gary saw that she was trembling.

"Essy what happened? Look at me."

"No, Gary, please." She waved her arm back towards him and the robe slid back revealing purple and blue bruises down her arm. Gary stared.

"Essy, if you don't turn around and talk to me, I swear by Mithros that I will go into that room." Esanta winced.

"Gary, no I can't let you." She heard the latch of the secret passage being lifted. She leapt off the bed and sprang to the hidden door. "Gary don't." Inside the passageway Gary had not gotten a clear view of her face. Slowly he felt the door open though, and Essy slipped in.

Her cheeks were black from bruises, and her lips were swollen from the beating. She had one black eye and the other eye was red from sobbing. Gary gently touched her cheek. Then he straightened; no man could do this, and go unpunished. He turned back towards the Throne Room, but Essy grabbed his arm.

"What in the Dark Realms do you intend to do? I didn't want you to see me for this very reason. If you go and challenge Roger now you will be dead and the resistance with you. Don't be an idiot. I'm fine. I have lived through worse beatings in my life, I will see worse one in the years to come. Men do not treat women like me gently. I will be fine, but he will kill me if you challenge him." Gary looked at her beautiful face, and realized how little he knew her, and how much he loved her.

"I can't let him get away with this," he said, but the argument was weak.

"He has gotten away with much worse. That is why you must live," she said quietly.

"She deserves so much better than this life," Gary thought as he brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and lifted her chin. For one breathless moment their eyes locked. Then gently he lowered his lips to hers. Esanta gave into the kiss, but her last thought was,

"This is foolishness."

A/T

Martina: Thanks for the review. I gave my one thought about the other side of the mirror in my review. It was that Alanna should get blamed for killing Jon.

CrazNM: I'm glad you like it! Also I'm glad you think that it is original! I'm a huge George fan, but I may be annoying and make her end up with someone else.

Orange Blossom: Thank you for enjoying the cliffie.

Anita: Thanks for the review.

Devilkitti8: Thanks for the review.

Mage Kitty: I'm glad you like it! Thanks for the review

Ok I want more than 6 reviews to update the next chappie, maybe around 10 (from 10 different people. So review! (please).


	8. Georges of Voleur

A/N I JUST CAME IN 3RD IN A RACE!!! Hehe I'm happy. Bet you guys didn't think I would update again. I'm sorry I take so long with updates. Please read review, and I hope Enjoy!

Chapter VIII: Lord Georges of Voleur

Alanna stared up at the tall woman before her, then slowly curtsied. The woman motioned for her to sit down, and she did. She looked Alanna up and down and her mouth curved into a perfect yet cold smile.

"You have done the best you could under the circumstances," she said. If Alanna hadn't been so awed she would have been offended. The best she could? "Of course you aren't in the ideal place to learn what you need. My brother has been most difficult about that." Everything the woman said was a statement. The husky voice rose and fell not betraying any emotion. "Of course he made it impossible for a meeting to take place between the two of us sooner, but at least in this place," she gestured at the convent, "you met me in a way." Her penetrating green eyes met Alanna's. Alanna felt as if she were digging into her soul. She didn't like it. "You do know me."

"You can't be" Alanna trailed off, looking at the face that was too perfect for any human. "It's impossible."

"Do you find it so hard to believe? You are one of my chosen. As such we had to meet. Is it so strange that I have come to you for a time, my daughter?" Alanna had learned much about the Great Mother Goddess while in the convent. She didn't appreciate the gods meddling in her affairs, but she also had a great deal of respect for them. She raised her head stubbornly.

"I never asked for help or protection." She looked around her at the confining convent walls. "I have enough of both in here," then almost to herself, "too much." The Goddess smiled, more warmly than before.

"No. Not here, but you will not stay behind these walls forever. When you are free of them you may be grateful for the gods' help." Alanna snorted, and without thinking said,

"The gods never make things easier."

"That may be true," the Goddess said with a hint of amusement in her voice, "but you shall need our help whether you will or no. That day when Thom was thrown from the pony, my brother and I were having an argument over you and your brother. I wanted your plan to succeed, but he didn't. You have learned much even in these walls. My priestess has taught you not to fear your gift, and you will learn more because of her." The Goddess looked towards the east, the chill just before dawn was beginning to set in. "My time with you is almost over, but two last things. I have brought here two people to help you. The Thief and the Dragon will teach you what you need, but you mustn't be afraid to ask. They will not refuse. Much depends on you Alanna of Trebond. Do not fail me." Alanna rose, and curtsied clumsily.

"I won't fail you. Or at least I will try not to."

"A Goddess cannot ask for more." The Goddess said with a smile, and looked down at the kitten. "Guard her well, Small One." The kitten mewed in reply, and Alanna wondered if there were more to her violet-eyed pet than she first thought. The Goddess held out her hand and Alanna leaned down and kissed it. A jolt of energy flowed through her, and Alanna had to shake her head to clear it. When she looked up again the woman was gone. As she walked back to the convent gently holding the kitten she saw that a door was open. She entered it and walked up the stairs to her room. A door gently opened around the corner, and as she rounded the bend she came face to face with one of the stable-hands. They stared at each other for a minute, and then he pushed past her and down the stairs.

"Why if it isn't Alanna of Trebond. Out of her bed this early. I believe that wandering the halls before the first bell is against the rules." Alanna looked into the lovely face of Delia of Eldorne. Delia didn't have a very beautiful expression on her face at the moment though. Alanna was in no mood to be polite to the girl, even though she was two years her senior.

"I think that what you are doing is breaking more rules than what I am. Have you no pride," Alanna said derisively. Delia glared at the shorter girl.

"If you dare ruin it I will make you wish you were dead."

"What do you expect to gain by screwing the stable-hands," Alanna said, knowing that if one of the sisters over heard her they would be shocked beyond words. She didn't care at the moment; this tart didn't have any right to make threats to her.

"There are two types of women at the palace," Delia said softly. "Those who are sold, and those who sell. I will be in control of my own destiny. If I am sold, I will be the one who gains, not some third party." Alanna stared at the girl in disgust.

"You will be used, and you will let yourself be used. You won't be in control," she said bitterly. Delia snorted.

"What about you? You will be sold to the highest bidder. That is why your virginity is protected so highly. Your father won't care if the man he chooses for you is twice your age." Alanna bristled at this. She started to walk down the hall, and then turned back to Delia.

"You're wrong you know. There is a third kind of lady at the palace. She is neither sold nor the seller. She is in charge of her own destiny and does not allow herself to be used. That is the kind I will be."

Delia laughed.

"Keep dreaming, you will be packaged off in marriage like all the other fools here."

*~*~*

George looked down at Ela. She was dressed in a pretty frock that was richly embroidered with birds and flowers. She had her satin ribbon in her limp brown hair, and was like a ray of sunlight in the drab room of the Magpie. George was dressed handsomely in a black velvet tunic, and cape. He had combed ashes into his thick brown hair, streaking it with grey, and a neat salt and pepper mustache decorated his face. He was the picture of the wealthy debonair widow he was playing. He took Ela by the hand and they left the inn together heading towards the temple district.

They arrived at the convent when the sun was high, and George pulled the rope outside the door. Inside he heard a bell toll and very quickly the heavy oak door was opened by a novice in a grey robe.

"I have come to inspect this convent as a suitable place for my daughter to be taught," George said coolly. The novice bowed and ushered the two imposters into a starkly furnished anteroom. There she bowed, and left the room. Soon after she left the Mother of the convent entered.

"You wish to enroll your daughter in our school?" she said doubtfully looking at the little girl. "Forgive me but isn't she a little young?"

"Her mother died, last year and I can't give her the attention that I wish to. I heard good reports of this place from my cousin Lord Alan of Trebond. His daughter goes here I believe," George said smoothly. Ela smiled winningly up at the Abbess.

"You are related to Lord Alan?" Mother Lokisk said skeptically.

"Yes I am," George replied, clearly affronted that anyone would ever doubt him. "I am his cousin."

"Well then," Mother Lokisk said, "You must wish your relative, Alanna, to show you around." She was a shrewd woman, and knew that George looked nothing like Lord Alan, but she would judge this man by the way Alanna reacted towards him.

"Please do, I haven't seen her since she and her brother was as tall as my little Elafos," he said patting Ela gently on the head.

"What name shall I tell her?" Lokisk asked.

"Georges of Voleur," he said, hoping desperately that Alanna would understand that he was the thief from the day before.

"Georges of Voleur?" Mother Lokisk said raising an eyebrow. "Please have a seat while I send a novice to find you cousin."

A/T

Mandygirl: Yes I am going to continue. I take too long to update. Sorry. I'm glad you like it!

Tirana: It's different! Good! I'm glad you like it! I'm trying to decide how much fighting Alanna should learn from the Shang, but she isn't going to come out of that training an amazing warrior. Hehe.

Amara: Are you from New England, wicked is kinda a N.E. expression. I use it too. Thanks for the review.

Drunken Little Monkey: Your S.N. cracks me up. I'm glad I'm getting better. That is always good to hear.

ExxxxRrrrooooommmmiiieeee!!!!: I CAME IN 3RD OUT OF ALL THE JV GIRLS!!!! YEAH!!! I'm so happy. I'm glad you liked the chappie.

Glowbird: I do think a lot on what I think will happen in the story, a lot when on long skis or during races. Hehe.

Dragonlady: Roger got to be king by killing Jonathan. He was next in line for the throne. Thanks for the review.

Pixie Princess: I hope you liked the update! Thanks for the review.

Matt: I'm not sure if you will read this, but thanks for the excellent review. I'm glad we got the whole flamer thing straightened out.

Paradoxie: Wow, thanks for the wonderful review. I'm glad you like the story. I'm glad you think I'm true to the book.

Stardusted: Thank you for the review. It is so nice to see that people like my story! Thanks again.

Andrea Rimsky: I don't think I will have too many more of the dream flashbacks. The reason I had them in there is that I wanted George to know Alanna before they met. Also I must say I like writing the same thing but from a different angle (my first fic was like that except it was Squire from Neal's perspective).

Keita: I'm glad you like it! Thanks for the review.

Christine: Hehe, I'm glad you like my convent story. I was reading the other ones and I was like what are they doing? Why is Jon alive? Why is Thom Jon's squire? Thanks for the review.

Devilkitti8: Thanks for the review.

Wow 15 reviews! I'm sorry I said I would update after ten. But thanks to you all!


	9. Trusting Strangers

A/N I suck, I apologize profusely for the long wait (hey it was less than two years!). Here is a new chappie half of which I wrote tonight the other half of which has be sitting around for about umm, let's say ten months (really I started this chappie right after my last update (hangs head in shame). Now, I'm incredible lazy and I feel awful but I won't do individual thanks for this chappie, because ummm, I was looking at the reviews and when you leave a story for over a year the reviews kinda add up, but thank you SO much everyone who reviewed! I love all of you and that's why I haven't totally abandoned this ficcy! I hope you haven't abandoned it either! Please read and review, and enjoy. Hopefully I'll keep at it.

Also for people who are interested in my other pieces of writing (I am not Kalle, Kalle is my ex-roommate, I am actually Aer), I have actually finished Amber Fire (which is my really big Tamora Pierce fic), and I have just started uploading my screenplay to the Twelve Dancing Princesses (which is completed on my computer and so will hopefully be updated daily!). Again 10000000 apologies about the long wait.

Chapter IX: Trusting Strangers

Roger looked suspiciously at his mistress. She was sitting in front of the vanity table covering her bruises with make-up. She turned and smiled at him her radiant smile. Roger melted a little, but still there was a nagging doubt in his mind. He trusted her too much. The doubt remained as he watched her get up. She walked up to him and kissed his chin.

"Forgive me Roger," she said submissively. Roger looked down into her bright blue eyes. He brushed a lock of blonde hair off her cheek.

"You won't go wandering the passages again," he said. She lowered her eyes.

"No, Roger, not if you don't want me to. I could never do anything that would hurt you." She kissed his neck, and then his lips found their way to hers.

"Then you are forgiven," he said as he lead her back to their bed chamber.

Thom shielded by his gift watched the exchange with interest, then ran down the passage back to Gary's apartments. As he exited through the hidden door an arm grabbed him and a hand covered his mouth.

"Not a sound," Gary voice breathed into his ear. "The guards are searching my study. They believe I'm asleep." Thom nodded, and was released. Gary had gripped his arm so hard that it left bruises. Thom rubbed it, then signed to Gary asking him if he wanted him to spy on the proceedings. Gary shook his head. They heard the guard stealthily going through the drawers in Gary's desk and probing it for secret panels. Then the quiet sound of bayonets cutting through the fabric on chairs, pillows, sofas and curtains. Then all noise ceased. Gary and Thom sat in silence for a few more minutes, then carefully rose, and opened the door. The study was a mess.

"It is as if someone opened a chaos vent in here," Thom said in amazement, but after the words left his mouth he noticed an order in the chaos, a precision that the guards were not capable of. "Don't touch it!" he said as Gary moved towards his desk. Thom closed his eyes, and sent a net of his gift over the room when he opened his eyes the room was enveloped by a black shadow, only here and there Thom's violet gift showed through. He sent his power gently down the warp of his net, and carefully looked at the spell. It was powerful and dark, and, Thom shocked at this, deadly. It was an assassin's spell. He thought back to the books on the dark arts he had read.

"Viper's tooth?" he questioned, "no, the scorpion's tail? No not right." He probed it cautiously "Toad! The toad of of of something." He looked at his knight master. "It is an assassin's spell, the Toad of something. I forget which exactly it is." Gary stared at his young squire in disbelief. Thom smiled cynically. "What? I'm good for something? I knew you wouldn't believe it." They backed out of the study. "The fact is that while all you idiots were studying things that had no practical use I was studying magic. I am one of the most powerful mages in the palace, perhaps the world," he said not without a little pride.

"How long will I have to wait before I can go into my study again?" Gary asked.

"A few days, but as it is the only exit we will have to come up with a reason why you are confined to your chamber," Thom said. "You aren't supposed to be able to find out where a Toad of SCANRA, Toad of Scanra that's it, has been cast, and I'm supposedly giftless. I could misfire the spell, it should only effect you, if it has been executed correctly, and we could say that you are ill and confined to your rooms. That way Roger will punish his assassin not us, but you must not on any pretext enter your main study for at least two days."

*~*~*

Alanna looked nervously down at the kitten, whose innocent violet eyes returned her wary gaze.

"I guess when the gods meddle with me I should expect something like this," Alanna muttered under her breath.

"Of course you should have," the kitten purred matter of factly. A knock came at the door, and Alanna threw a blanket over the kitten, who hissed in surprise, "Watch it!" Alanna opened the door on an out of breath novice.

"Mother Lokisk needs you in the reception hall."

"Just a minute," Alanna said. "I need to get changed." The novice bowed and left the room. Alanna walked over to her bed and uncovered the kitten again. She sat up and primly started to wash herself. Alanna turned to her mirror, and ran a brush through her copper curls. "Stay here," she said firmly to the affronted cat.

"Why should I?"

"Because we aren't allowed pets," Alanna hissed back.

"All the more reason for me to introduce myself now," was the smooth reply. "It is always much more inconvenient explaining the presence of contraband when it has been here a while, you will be much more likely to be able to keep me if you introduce me to the Mistress' priestess on arrival, shall we say. She won't take me away from you when she sees who I am, I promise that."

"And who are you?" Alanna asked annoyed at the kitten's good sense.

"Well you can name me, I am merely one of the Mistress' cats."

"I have a name for you, Nemesis. That is who you are. Come along Nemesis, it isn't wise to keep Mother Lokisk waiting," Alanna said with a slight mocking edge to her voice. Nemesis jumped off the bed, and sauntered out of the room tail high.

"Dogs come," she said with a sniff. Alanna laughed at the affronted kitten, and decided that she would make a good companion. They walked down the hallway together until they reached the reception hall. When they entered Alanna stopped dead staring at George.

"You!" she said, but he interupted her smoothly.

"Alanna, you remember me, I say you have grown since the last time I saw you, that was simply ages ago. Before your cousin Ela was even born. Ela, go hug your cousin Alanna." Before Alanna knew what was happening Ela had wrapped her little arms around her waist. Alanna was stunned, but she managed to pat Ela on the head.

"Alanna, Georges of Voleur has traveled here to see if this will be a suitable place for his daughter. He says he is your father's cousin, and so I thought that it would be best if you showed him around," Mother Lokisk interjected coolly. Alanna met George's eyes then turned to Mother Lokisk.

"Yes, of course I would. My father has told me many stories about the mischief you two would get into. It is wonderful to see you again!" She ran up to him, and kissed him on the cheek. Mother Lokisk took this all in quietly, and decided that probably this young widower was not dangerous to the school.

Ela had in turn found Nemesis, and sat on the flagstones playing with the black and white Magpie cat contentedly.

A/T


End file.
